


Waiting For That Final Moment

by almaasi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 80's Music, Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Buisnessman Dean, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Illustrated, Lisa Not Being an Asshole, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Non-Endgame Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Non-Monogamy, Polyamory, Roller Discos, Rollerblades & Rollerskates, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winchester Wheels roller rink is all prettied up for an epic 80s-themed wedding. In a few minutes, Dean and Lisa will be pronounced man and wife. But, on a day his life is meant to feel full and complete, Dean's heart is breaking, as his best friend Castiel is a no-show. Unbeknownst to Dean, Castiel is pacing outside, just waiting for the right moment to burst in and yell, "I OBJECT!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For That Final Moment

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Unbeta'd. Contains beer-drinking, and mentions of Dean/Lisa sex. Also, please note that Dean _does_ love Lisa in this fic, he just loves Cas as well.
> 
> Title from New Order's [_Bizarre Love Triangle_](bit.ly/1NyEWGs).

Dean felt Sam’s hand on his elbow, squeezing through the thick material of his tuxedo. “Just a few minutes, now,” Sam said softly, barely audible over the rhythmic thump of Pat Benatar’s _We Belong_ , and the rumble and chatter of the seated congregation.

Dean’s eyes scanned the group again, over and over. He saw his mom in the front row, smiling as she spoke to Lisa’s mom. He looked further back and saw a hundred other people, friends and relations on either side of the aisle.

Hanging from the huge white ceiling of the Winchester Wheels roller rink were a multitude of shiny streamers, glittery tassels and disco lights. The whole place looked funky as heck, and Dean ought to have been overjoyed to see so many people at his wedding, all dressed in 1980s-era get-up, like the invite said. Slack, large-collared suits with big shoulder pads, permed hair back-brushed into wild quiffs or fake mullets. The colour palette was striking.

Dean saw people grinning, and he heard joyful, excited laughter, but he couldn’t find it in him to raise a smile.

“You’ll be fine, Dean,” Sam said soothingly. “There’s nothing to be nervous about; I’ll be right beside you the whole time. I’ve got the rings. Everything’s set.”

“He’s still not here,” Dean uttered under his breath. He shook his head, eyes scouring the sea of faces one more time. “I can’t believe he’d miss this.”

Sam checked the room too, but of course, he didn’t see Castiel’s face in the crowd. “Maybe he hit traffic.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Or maybe he put the wrong date in his calendar, and he just _happened_ to turn his phone off today, of all days...” He scowled. “He’s not like that, Sam. He’s always around when I need him, he _always_ comes when I call. We’ve been talking about this wedding for well over a year. He helped me set up the rink decorations, for God’s sake. Why isn’t he _here_? I _need_ him here.” Dean exhaled and fidgeted on the stage, touching his forehead. “God, I don’t wanna do this...”

Sam raised his eyebrows. He was quiet for a moment, then he took a breath to speak. “Today’s about you and Lisa,” Sam reminded him. “Not Cas. I know it sucks that he isn’t here – I’m disappointed too – but don’t let his absence ruin your day, Dean.” He spoke like he didn’t understand why Dean was so antsy.

Dean looked up, and another strike of anxiety and dread washed through him as he met his brother’s eyes. He tried to reply, tried to tell Sam why Cas _mattered_ so much – but his voice cracked, and he had to look down. He wiped his sweating hands on his thighs, swallowing hard.

“You’re okay, right?” Sam checked.

Dean shook his head automatically, but quickly turned it into a nod, because he didn’t want Sam to know how much he had to hide. His belly felt cold, his throat felt tight, and he wished he had his roller-skates on already, because he wanted to get out of this room as soon as he could. The rink was massive, and the assembled group was only taking up a fraction of the space. Dean felt small, like a single grain of sand on God’s palm. All alone.

The firm thump of rock-and-roll ended, plunging the rink into a raging, empty silence.

Rumbling voices became whispers and quiet giggles, and a few chairs scraped on the polished wooden floor.

Then, the Bridal Chorus began flowing through the surround-sound speakers, playing to a slow beat and a snare drum. Dean shut his eyes. Lisa was about to walk down the aisle and marry him, and Cas still wasn’t here.

“Dean,” Sam said. He touched Dean’s chest, and Dean looked up. Sam looked hugely concerned. “Smile,” Sam grinned. He grinned as if to show Dean what happiness was meant to look like. Dean tried, but he was pretty sure he just looked constipated.

He looked back down at his shoes, and he listened to the music.

He heard the crowd give a hushed whisper and gasps of awe, and he heard Lisa’s stilettos tapping down the aisle, in time with the beat of the music. For a second, Dean did feel a flip of excitement. It came with a sense of relief – _thank God, you_ do _love her_ – and guilt. _This isn’t right. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening..._

But Dean lifted his eyes, and turned his head to see Lisa approach. There she was, the picture of an angel in her white dress. Her veil couldn’t hide the huge grin on her face. She paused at the end of the aisle, touching her father’s hand and accepting a kiss to the cheek. The train of her dress had picked up streamers and glitter along the way, and it collected more as she stepped closer and closer to the little stage where Dean waited with Sam.

Dean’s heart was in his throat. He stood straight and put on a proper smile, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. If he was going to do this, he may as well look happy about it.

· · · ♥ · · ·

Castiel ran down the street in grey evening light, fighting against the wind. He dodged newspapers and random trash, crossing the street once, then again, habitually avoiding the crazy dog that lived outside the pawn shop next to the skating rink. Out of breath, Castiel pushed open the staff door at the back of the building where he worked.

Inside was quiet. He’d entered through the kitchen, and usually this place was rowdy with people, steam billowing out of any appliance that had knobs. Even on Christmas Day, the kitchen was running. They’d be short-staffed, sure, but there were always people here. Yet, today, for the first time since Dean and Castiel had clubbed together to buy this rink eight years ago, Winchester Wheels was closed for business.

Swallowing down his nervousness, Castiel took off his tan trenchcoat, hanging it on a peg at the side of the room. But without all the people and the steam, the building was cold. He put his coat back on.

He left the kitchen through the open door, and he followed the hallway. All the lights were out, and given the rapid decay of daylight, the path before him was gloomy. He could hear no music, not even that deep bassline inside the walls. The absence of that noise in a place like this was surreal.

By the time Castiel climbed the stairs and made it to the men’s bathrooms, he’d caught his breath.

The bathroom door creaked. Ahead, at the top of the room, daylight bled through bullseye glass windows, lighting up the smeared cleaning fluid on the mirrors. Castiel stood before the sinks, staring into his own eyes. He looked a mess. He had red eyes from the two hours he’d spent crying, and there was still a mark on his face from his car seatbelt.

Castiel bent to wash his face, welcoming the cold sting. The sensation wasn’t too different from what he’d felt every day, deep inside, whenever he heard Dean talk about Lisa.

Castiel wasn’t jealous, not exactly. At least, he didn’t think he was jealous. Most days he felt defeated. Dean was engaged to be married to their co-worker, so Castiel had already lost. But today, Castiel was not jealous, nor defeated. He was determined. He’d taken a tear-induced nap in the car, and in his five-minute dream, he’d realised what he had to do.

Castiel took a sip of cold water from his numb hand, and he tipped the rest of the water into the basin and turned off the faucet. His face was red now. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and he hadn’t put his tie on properly – but Castiel didn’t have time to do anything like that now. He checked his watch, and a bolt of terror struck him. Was he too late already?

· · · ♥ · · ·

“I met Dean working here,” Lisa said, speaking up so everyone could hear. Her hand was warm and reassuring, held tight in Dean’s larger hand. “We both loved the _energy_ of this place. We were drawn to the roller rink like we were drawn to each other. The 80s were home to us, you know? Neither of us could let go of our childhoods. We wanted to make every day fun, and magical. We could do that for the kids who came here, as well as the adults who were just like us.”

Lisa chuckled, amused by her words. “While Dean went about building a business – or so he says; we all know I was really the one holding this place together—” The room of people all laughed as one, Dean included, and Lisa beamed.

Slowly the laugh petered out, and Lisa’s smile dimmed, though it still glowed like a small sun in her eyes. “Together we ended up forging a relationship. Him and me.” Lisa gazed steadily at Dean, grinning. Dean smiled back easily, holding her hand tighter.

“Time’s come, I guess,” Lisa announced, winking at Dean. “Today we let go of our childhood, together. We hit thirty too many years ago, but _today’s_ the day we act our age, finally.”

More quietly, just for Dean, Lisa leaned in and said, “How ‘bout it, babe? Let get married, huh?”

Dean grinned and bit his lip. He nodded. “I, uh.” He gulped, and lifted his chin, trying to remember everything Sam had told him about making speeches. Dean wasn’t a courtroom lawyer like his brother; stuff like this didn’t come naturally to him. He cleared his throat twice before he could even make a real noise.

“Lisa,” Dean rasped, squeezing his bride’s hand. “W-We, um. Everything you said. That was good.”

The crowd chuckled, and Dean hoped they at least found his flustered demeanour endearing rather than distasteful.

Dean took another gulp of air, and managed a tiny smile. “I love you,” he said, and he felt relief as the words came out, because for once in his life, they weren’t difficult words to say. “I’m here today because of that. And I’ll be with you tomorrow too, because of that.”

He’d scribbled his vows down last night on a catering bill. He’d only got those few words, and now he was all out. He gaped blankly for a moment, then said the first thing that came to mind. “Doesn’t matter that Cas isn’t here. Doesn’t matter.” He shut his eyes, trying to assure himself it was true. In his desperation, he breathed, “Everything’s... fine.”

Dean felt a tug on his hand. “Dean?” Lisa asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Dean met her eyes. He nodded, again trying to convince himself. “Mm-hm.”

“Is that all?” asked their officiator, a black woman named Billie. She didn’t look impressed.

Dean pressed his lips together and grimaced. “Sorry.”

Lisa laughed, swaying their joined hands. “It’s fine,” she told Billie. “It was beautiful. Let’s move on.”

With raised eyebrows, Billie lifted her officiators’ book and read from it without looking at the pages. “Now,” she said, “Do you, Dean No-Middle-Name Winchester—”

The crowd laughed, and Dean smirked. That was Lisa’s joke.

Billie even chuckled a little. “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Lisa Cindy Braeden, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, both in sickness and in health, and through whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

Dean swallowed. He looked deep into Lisa’s eyes, and he saw her love shining back at him. He set aside the reminders of Castiel – Lisa’s dark hair, Lisa’s gentle smile, Lisa’s hands in his. She was similar to Castiel in some ways, but she was not Castiel. Dean loved her anyway. He smiled, and he nodded. “I do.”

· · · ♥ · · ·

**SIX MONTHS PREVIOUSLY**

“Want another one?” Dean asked, offering Castiel an open bottle of beer. Castiel took it, and he sipped it.

Dean sighed as he sat down on the floor beside Castiel, both their backs to the couch. Bowls of chips and dip were spread out all around on the carpet, and the TV remote was just in reach of Dean’s socked foot. He kicked for it, but it only slid away.

“Ngh. Fine. Infomercials it is, then,” Dean said, taking a gulp of beer.

“I wonder if infomercials are better in Los Angeles,” Castiel said thoughtfully.

Dean snorted, gazing at his friend. “Why?”

Castiel shrugged. “Lisa’s there with Ben. I suppose Lisa and her friends might be doing what we’re doing now. Eating crap and watching riveting television.”

“They’re off buying a wedding dress, Cas,” Dean said. “And Ben’s got school work to be doing. They’re not gonna have time to watch TV.”

“I’m sure they’ll watch something when they get tired,” Castiel smiled. “They’ll have a TV in their hotel room.”

Dean and Castiel watched a golden pocket watch turn on a velvet Lazy Susan, and they munched a few more chips, drank a bit more beer.

Then Castiel sighed. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

Dean looked down at his lap, thumbing at the label on his beer. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you could even fall in love,” Castiel said conversationally, stretching out his legs so his sock brushed Dean’s jeans. “Let alone love someone so much you wanted to marry them.”

“Yeah, well. Lisa’s a cool chick,” Dean nodded. “Sometimes the love-‘em-and-leave-‘em types meet a certain kind of person, and all of a sudden they wanna do stuff they’ve never done before.”

Castiel considered that. He watched the side of Dean’s face, and Dean pretended he didn’t notice.

“Do you think it’s possible,” Castiel began, “that sometimes never-loved, never-left types can also meet a certain kind of person...” Castiel’s beer-cold fingers reached to touch Dean’s bare wrist. “And that person also makes them want to do things they’ve never done before?”

Dean looked at Castiel in confusion. “Never-loved, never-left? Who’s that?”

“Me.” Castiel shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve never been with anyone.”

“Yeah, I know _that_ – but...?”

Realisation hit Dean like a really weird firework. A flush seared under his skin, while a tingly feeling erupted in his stomach. Although there was nobody else in Castiel’s apartment, Dean kept his voice low as he said, “You’re talking about me? What do I make you wanna do?”

Castiel shrugged again, taking a sip of his beer. A pinkness had flooded his cheeks, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol putting bright colour there, or something else.

“Cas...” Dean reached back and put his beer down. He clenched and unclenched his hand, then turned to face his friend. They were close enough at the shoulder that Dean could nudge him with his whole side, and he did. “Tell me, buddy.”

“I shouldn’t,” Castiel said lowly. “You won’t want to hear it.”

“That’s for me to judge,” Dean said. “Look, if you’ve got a secret, I’m not gonna blab to anyone. What happens in your apartment stays in your apartment. So spill.”

Castiel wriggled his pursed lips from side to side, eyes set on his beer bottle. “I, um. I see you how you act with Lisa when you come into work together. I see how happy she makes you, Dean. We all see it. But sometimes, I think...”

Dean waited, listening with bated breath.

“I’d like to know what it’s like,” Castiel confessed. “Physical intimacy.”

“Like kissing? Or...?”

Castiel nodded. “Mostly kissing.”

“Hey.” Dean smirked. “Why did you think I wouldn’t I wanna hear that?”

“Because I want to do it with you,” Castiel frowned. “You’re the only one I trust that way.”

Dean felt another fever in his skin and a rush of bubbles inside him. “Huh,” he breathed. He was intrigued, but honestly, he wasn’t too surprised. “Well, you came to the right expert, Cas.”

“I did?”

Dean glanced about himself. “Well, yeah? C’mon, let’s try it out.” He quirked up a small grin. “What happens in your apartment stays in your apartment, remember. Don’t worry about it.”

Castiel’s stare had become intense, his gaze dipping to Dean’s mouth before returning to his eyes, but he didn’t move closer. “We can’t just— Dean, we shouldn’t...”

“Lisa won’t mind,” Dean said, sure of himself. “She knows I’m bi.”

“But that doesn’t mean she’d be comfortable if you cheated.”

Dean scoffed. “It’s not cheating! You’re my best friend, Cas, that’s not how cheating works.” He mulled that over for a moment, then scoffed. “Okay, that was tipsy Dean talking. But seriously, Lisa’s cool with it. So long as I’m honest with her. What happens in this apartment—”

“Does not necessarily stay in this apartment,” Castiel finished.

“You good with that?” Dean asked, dragging a fingertip against Castiel’s forehead, lifting away a single lock of his dark hair.

Castiel searched Dean’s eyes, nodding. “Yes. The last thing I want is to come between you and Lisa.”

Dean pursed his lips. “I’ll tell her when she gets back, then. Now, c’mere.” Dean leaned in close, smiling as he nosed at Castiel’s face. He gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, slowly shutting his eyes.

Castiel sighed. “You really think it’s okay?”

Dean nodded, sitting closer to Castiel and nuzzling his jaw. “I’m just gonna teach you how to kiss, Cas. It’s no big deal. To be fair, I’ve kinda been waiting for you to ask.”

Castiel lowered his chin, and Dean felt his hot, beer-scented breath on his lips. Dean’s eyelids flickered in surprise as all at once, Castiel fell into him, mouth open and wet. They pushed together, Dean grabbing Castiel’s cheeks, Castiel holding Dean’s neck. They rolled their tongues and Dean laughed, smooching softly to counter Castiel’s rough, too-eager kisses.

Castiel pushed Dean around so his back pressed into the couch, and Dean was immediately caught unawares by a tender nudge of his mouth. All the warm, excitable feelings inside Dean’s body culminated into an emotional peak, and when Castiel sighed into his open mouth, Dean moaned.

Their kiss broke, and their eyes met.

Dean exhaled over Castiel’s pink lips. He could see the want in Castiel’s eyes, and Dean couldn’t help mirroring Castiel’s emotion. He smiled, biting his lip.

They kissed again. This time it was softer, and slower.

Dean relaxed.

After a minute, Castiel relaxed too.

Castiel sat in Dean’s lap, kneeling over his outstretched thighs, and Dean held Castiel’s waist as they made out.

They made out for forty-eight minutes, twenty-three of which were spent lying on the floor together. Grinning at the fact they wanted to carry on, but were too old to lie on the floor, they migrated to Castiel’s bedroom. There, in his bed, they made out for a further two hours. They kissed shoulders and hands and pushed up their shirts to kiss each other’s stomachs, and, as a joke, they pulled each other’s shirts off.

They both got erections early on, but Dean pretended to ignore the development. Castiel made no move to go further than kissing. He was content with kissing, and Dean knew that.

They explored new kinds of touches in the bed together, half-naked, half-drunk, huffing out sounds of pleasure, completely wrapped up in each other. They kissed ears, and throats, and all the way down each other’s backs. They kissed fingers, and noses. They laughed and held hands.

Four hours since the moment they first kissed, they eventually fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

They slept together all night, facing each other, legs tangled.

Dean woke up first. He saw Castiel sound asleep in front of him, and he smiled. He snuggled up closer and went back to sleep.

When he woke up later, Castiel was gone. Dean found him in the kitchen, eating cereal and reading last week’s newspaper. Dean grunted a hello and made himself some toast, smothering one slice with Castiel’s peanut butter, flavouring the other slice with Castiel’s raspberry jelly.

They sat side-by-side at the breakfast bar, and they read the newspaper together while they ate, like they had a thousand times before.

For a few days, Dean assumed things were going to go back to normal. Lisa and Ben returned from their trip, having brought a wedding dress in a black protective sleeve. As per that old tradition, Dean was forbidden from looking inside and seeing the dress before the wedding day. It was stored beside Dean’s tuxedo, which was inside a navy-blue protective sleeve.

When Lisa came into Dean’s study at home, and she asked how Dean’s weekend with Cas went, Dean shrugged, and said, “Same as always. Beer and _Jenny Jones_ reruns.” He looked up at Lisa, then back down. “We... uh.” He licked his lips. “We kinda... kissed. A bit.”

“Kissed?” Lisa started to grin. “Oh, I _knew_ he was into you! Saw that one coming a mile away.” She laughed to herself. “So? Was it just on the cheek, or what?”

Dean shook his head, keeping his eyes lowered. He shrugged one shoulder, feeling heat flooding his face.

Lisa leaned down, resting her elbows on the table where Dean had spread out his work. Dean’s eyes flicked up to hers for a split-second before he looked away, too aware he was blushing.

“Did it mean something?” Lisa asked.

Dean quickly shook his head, feeling the tension in his stomach dissipate. As expected, Lisa was fine with it. “It was just... I dunno. An experiment or something. For Cas.”

“I thought he was asexual?”

“He is!” Dean looked up, gulping. “He is. He just...” Dean shrugged again, “wanted to try kissing, I guess. He never did that with anyone before. It was totally intimate, but it wasn’t _sexual_ -sexual.”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully, reaching to touch the back of Dean’s neck. She leaned down and kissed his ear, ruffling his hair. “Thanks for being honest, babe. Hey, can you do pasta for dinner tonight? I’ve gotta pick Ben up from soccer at six. I’ve left the stuff on the side – Ben wanted your special sauce.”

“Sure.” Dean smiled, watching her stack up the books she’d come to collect. She smiled at him before she left the room.

As soon as she was gone, Dean’s own smile sank away to nothing. He stared blankly at the revenue reports spread before him, replaying the conversation he’d just had in his mind. _Did it mean anything?_ Lisa’s voice echoed, over and over. Dean sat and shook his head, repeating the body language he’d shown Lisa, this time watching his reflection in the window. Good; it seemed believable. _No, it didn’t mean anything. It was just an experiment._

As far as he recalled, Dean had never lied to Lisa before. Was it really a lie, though? Part of him wanted to believe it was perfectly normal to make out with his best friend all night, and it was perfectly rational to want to smother him in physical affection. Dean and Cas had the same relationship they’d had before. Nothing was different. Like Dean had said before, it didn’t count. It was _Cas_.

Dean reminded himself of that whenever his mind drifted, whenever he started to wonder why his heart felt electric every time he thought of Castiel’s kiss-pink lips, and the soft, dazed look in his eyes as he rested his cheek on the same pillow as Dean. Dean told himself it didn’t mean anything so often that he finally started to accept it as truth.

One week later, Dean sat on Castiel’s couch, accepted a beer, and he hoped – no, _wondered_! He wondered if they might do it again. He’d enjoyed it so much...

It was never the same with Lisa. Sex was sex, and romantic dinners were romantic dinners, but exploring each other’s senses like that, _laughing_ like that... Dean hadn’t done that with Lisa.

Dean and Castiel spent an afternoon together, and they didn’t even mention the previous weekend. They watched Netflix and cartoons – as if they weren’t nearly middle-aged, because of course, good stories defied age limits – but they didn’t kiss, not once.

Dean tried to kiss Lisa the way he’d kissed Cas, but whenever they really got into it, they ended up having sex, and then it was over and they went to sleep. Dean tried a few times, but the result was always the same. He didn’t know whether he just had bad impulse control, or whether it just happened because Lisa didn’t know he was trying to recreate something he’d done with someone else, and Dean didn’t want to be too specific in his requests or Lisa might suspect. Either seemed likely. The latter, most certainly.

On the third weekend, Dean couldn’t take it any more. He set his beer aside and he rounded on Castiel, kissing him hard on the mouth. He slid into his lap and stroked his fingers through Castiel’s short hair, smiling in utter _relief_.

Castiel shoved Dean back. They stared at each other.

“I—” Dean huffed, then licked his lips. “I wanna do it again. What we did before.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Lisa agreed?”

Dean shrugged, leaning in for another kiss.

Castiel separated Dean’s mouth from his own with a hand. Dean thought he wanted his hand kissed, so he started pecking Castiel’s fingertips with tiny smooches, but Castiel complained, “No, Dean...”

Dean found himself manhandled back to the other side of the couch.

Castiel looked at him sternly. “I think you were mistaken, before. If we’d shared one or two friendly kisses, perhaps it wouldn’t count as infidelity. But Dean...” He tilted his head, shaking it. “This isn’t right. Lisa has to agree first.”

Dean blinked a few times, sinking his head back against the couch cushion behind him. He stared at the ceiling, feeling the arousal inside him fading away, like a pot taken off the boil.

“We shouldn’t kiss any more,” Castiel said, sitting more comfortably beside Dean, eyes on the TV. “Not unless you tell Lisa that you want to be intimate with me again.” Castiel shook his head, and he handed Dean his beer. “I care about her too, Dean. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Dean nodded softly. He sipped his drink, and he sank deeper into the couch, sighing as he held the liquid in his mouth. He knew Cas was right.

But Dean also knew he wouldn’t be telling Lisa. He was as aware today as he had been before: kissing Cas most certainly _did_ count. In no universe did Dean truly believe that the night he and Cas had shared meant nothing. It meant everything. If fact, it meant so much that Dean vowed never to speak a word on the matter to his fiancée, knowing the truth had the potential to destroy their trust completely.

· · · ♥ · · ·

**PRESENT DAY**

Castiel paced the desolate hallway. He could just about hear the procession from outside; the doors had a tiny crack between them, and a faint echo of voices came through. Castiel breathed into his hands and walked from one side of the hall to the other, between the vending machine and the door, back and forth.

He was sure the line was meant to have been said already. _If anyone here knows of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace._

Nothing. It wasn’t said. They just went straight in with the ‘I do’s. 

Castiel didn’t know what to do. He gripped his hair with both hands, crying out a desperate noise. He heard Lisa reply, “ _I do,_ ” and he heard the soft drone of glad noises from the crowd.

The next part would be Dean and Lisa kissing. Castiel’s heart just about gave out at the thought.

He didn’t have a second to lose. He turned, and he rammed both hands into the metal bar on the doors, shoving both open. They hit the walls – _SLAM!_ The lights in the ceiling shook, and one began to fritz, raining a shower of sparks down over Castiel’s shoulders as he passed underneath.

He strode onto the roller rink with his head held high, every step taking him closer to the wedding in progress. He saw a hundred faces staring at him, whispers and utterances passed between the guests.

Castiel reached the end of the aisle, and he kept walking. People’s heads turned.

“I object,” he said. His voice did not shake. “I object to this wedding.”

Dean and Lisa stared at him from the stage. Lisa looked confused. But Dean looked like he was about to cry. He smiled at Castiel as he approached, his eyes twinkling with tears.

· · · ♥ · · ·

“Cas,” Lisa said, baffled as she stared at their friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I believe was invited as a guest of honour,” Castiel said. He stopped ten feet from the stage, oblivious to the accusations and questions being shouted from the crowd. “I’m late. Apologies.”

Sam stepped down off the stage, still holding the rings. “Cas, you can’t interrupt a wedding just because you’re late! Go and sit down.”

“I’m—” Castiel shrugged Sam off when he tried to push him back. “Dean! _Dean!_ Please, I have to tell you something!”

“Sam, let him speak,” Dean said, raising a hand to gesture Sam away. Sam stepped back, and the crowd quietened down. Everyone waited.

Castiel’s voice was rough with emotion, and his eyes were nothing but earnest as he said, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s response was to sink into a relieved slump, more tears springing to his eyes. He didn’t care that the people he thought of as family were getting up in arms about Castiel’s confession. For five or six seconds, Dean and Castiel were the two grains of sand on God’s hand. The universe and all its inhabitants could howl their grievances into Dean’s ears and he wouldn’t hear a single word.

Cas was in _love_ with him.

But the universe all came flooding back, because Lisa’s hand slipped out of Dean’s. “Cas, we’re getting _married_ ,” she said. “Dean already said ‘I do’. It’s too late.”

“Technically it isn’t,” Billie said from behind Dean. “A marriage isn’t legally binding until the papers are signed.”

“You’re not helping, Billie,” Lisa snapped.

Dean stood there in silence, vaguely aware he was wearing his goofiest smile. His heart seemed to float inside him, like a happy red balloon.

“I can’t let you marry Lisa,” Castiel said, speaking only to Dean, not raising his voice to be heard over the commotion. The background noise went on, giving Castiel the opportunity to speak without a room full of people listening in. “I know how much you care for her, and I know you’d be happy living with her and her son – but I know you too well, Dean. I know how much you’d—”

“Regret it,” Dean finished. His voice was a mere whisper over Castiel’s as he said the same words.

Lisa turned to stare at Dean.

Dean lowered his chin, swallowing. He felt Lisa’s eyes on him, and Castiel’s – and Sam’s. Other people stared, but those people couldn’t hear a word over the guests’ collective babble.

“What the hell is going on?” Lisa breathed. She touched Dean’s arm. “Dean...”

Dean’s eyes flicked up to Lisa’s. She frowned, but she wasn’t angry.

Licking his lips, Dean decided to explain. He spoke quietly, but even soft words could be heard by those who were really listening. “It started about six months ago.”

“Longer ago than that,” Castiel corrected. Dean looked over at him, and Castiel blinked back. “It began when you and I put together our money to purchase this roller rink.”

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “For you, maybe. Not for me.”

Castiel squinted. Dean huffed, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I, uh...” He glanced at Lisa. “Back in September, you and your girlfriends were out looking at dresses, me and Cas were hanging out at his apartment, drinkin’ beers – you know the drill. Cas was all, ‘You’re getting married and I’ve never even dated’, and... God, I don’t even know. I don’t know how it happened...”

Lisa frowned, unsure about what she hearing. Dean suddenly found himself unable to speak, so Lisa looked over at Cas, expecting him to finish what Dean started.

“Dean taught me to kiss,” Castiel said, like that was a totally normal thing to say. “We kissed all night. It was... magical.”

Dean covered his face with a hand, all his thoughts drowned out by the gossiping crowd. Thankfully this conversation was near-inaudible – Dean wasn’t even out to Lisa’s family, so more than sixty people here were only now finding out he was into dudes. He didn’t want specifics repeated on Facebook later.

Funnily enough, all the negativity in the room didn’t seem to affect him. Dean let his hand drop, and he was already smiling. He gazed at Castiel, so utterly _pleased_ he was standing there, revealing the truth, saying the words Dean hadn’t been able to articulate. Perhaps Dean was delirious with relief, but for now, it seemed like everything was going perfectly. He barely noticed the people who had gotten up to leave in disgust.

“Dean,” Lisa said.

Dean looked back at her. She pulled her veil off her head, revealing her 80s-styled hair, huge waves and tight curls put into usually-straight hair. It took a moment before she could speak, and her voice shook with emotion as she asked, “Do you kiss him every weekend?”

Dean shook his head. “Just the once. Six months ago.”

If anything, Lisa looked more baffled by that. “Then why...?” She looked at Castiel, then at Dean again. “Oh. You love him back, don’t you?”

Dean nodded.

Lisa shut her eyes. Dean wasn’t sure if she was mad, disappointed, or upset. Maybe all three. All three and more.

“But I love you as well,” Dean said, taking Lisa’s hand. She didn’t pull away. “I can’t explain it, I just— I love you both.”

“But you don’t want to marry me,” Lisa said. She knew already; Dean didn’t need to confirm it.

Quickly thrusting out his tongue to wet his lips, Dean turned to Castiel, checking he was still there, waiting as though he expected Dean to hop off the stage and go to him. But Dean couldn’t go yet – first he needed to clear his name. Dean looked back at Lisa. “Cas said it. I’d regret it. I’d regret not choosing him. If I married you, you and Ben would come first – but I need Cas to come first. No, I— I _want_ him to come first. I want to go to him in the weekdays and see you at the weekends, not how it is now.”

“This is about timesharing?!” Lisa nearly laughed. “And you left it until _now_ to tell me?!”

“I know, I know, it’s stupid! I just didn’t tell you because—” Dean shook his head, lifting his eyes to the streamers on the ceiling. “God, I don’t know. I felt guilty about how much I _miss_ him when I’m with you. A life with you or a life with him – I didn’t wanna pick. I didn’t think I’d ever have to. But... I guess... now I have.” He looked over at Castiel, feeling his heart aching with affection all over again. Castiel peered back, a tiny smile curling the sides of his mouth.

Lisa breathed out, and her shoulders slumped down an inch. “I’m ‘safe’,” she said quietly.

Now Dean’s attention focused entirely on her. “What?”

“That’s what you said to me, once,” Lisa explained. “When you told me you’re bi, and you’d always favoured one-night hookups over relationships, I asked why you were dating me. You said you were sick of saying adiós to people, you wanted a long-term relationship – and that I was a safe choice.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “I forgot I said that. Shit. That’s kind of a crappy thing to say to a new girlfriend.”

“But you were honest,” Lisa said. “And I appreciated that, Dean. I still do.”

Dean started to feel the pain of his guilt, now. A hand gripped his insides and squeezed, and he felt short of breath.

“Better you came clean now,” Lisa said quietly, nodding. “Better now than in a year, or twelve years, when I come home and I catch you and him sleeping in our bed, right?”

Dean stared at Lisa’s hand, wrapped around her bouquet of flowers. Her fingers were holding so tight that her pale skin had gone sheet-white. Dean swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, aware Lisa was holding herself together and trying to resolve this amicably for the sake of the people who lingered in the room, watching and talking amongst themselves. Dean shut his eyes and spilled every confession he’d been holding onto for months: “I didn’t even realise how I felt about him until it was too late; we already did what we did. By then, being honest with you was too hard.”

“Then it’s a good thing Cas burst in here, huh?” Lisa smiled tensely. “Else I might never have known.”

Dean grimaced. He touched his flaming-hot cheek, then ran his hand to the back of his neck.

“Just go to him,” Lisa said, with a tone of finality. “He’s waiting for you.”

Dean looked up and met her eyes. Calm, rational patience in the face of insufferable idiocy was exactly why Dean loved her, and always would. “Thank you,” he said, and he leaned to kiss her on the cheek. She kissed him back, and Dean moved to step off the stage.

Shouts bombarded him from every side, and he saw a few angry movements, but he went to Castiel regardless.

Castiel took Dean’s hand, and Dean felt like he flooded with bright white light. Pure joy, that was all.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice came out crackly and thick on his tongue.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replied, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness.

Sam came up to Dean’s side. His expression was set halfway between furious and affectionate. He looked like a disappointed parent.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I don’t need to hear it,” Dean drawled, waving a hand at his younger brother. “No doubt you’re gonna give it to me anyway.”

“Half your guests are gone,” Sam said bluntly. “The bridesmaids are crying, Mom’s having to explain to Lisa’s deaf aunt what just happened, and Ben asked me if you were gay.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him you were raised by socially-challenged unicorns, and then I came here to see you. You guys have _really_ bad timing, you know that, right?”

“I thought my timing was impeccable,” Castiel said, staring at Sam.

“Dude,” Sam chuckled, “you waited until the wedding day to confess your love to the groom. Most people would call that bad timing.”

Castiel squinted.

Dean smiled. He patted his brother’s shoulder, then took a deep breath. “Well,” he sighed. “Caterers are still scheduled to bring food. DJ’s still getting paid. Everyone’s in costume—” Dean turned to Castiel frowning at his backwards tie. “Well, almost everyone.” He spent a few moments straightening Castiel’s tie and his coat lapels, then fixing his messy hair. He smiled the whole time.

Sam sighed, watching Dean fuss over his friend. “I’ll go tell the DJ to avoid songs with all references to infidelity, shall I?”

“Hey!” Dean said, scowling. “Don’t. It wasn’t like that.”

Sam looked at Castiel for confirmation, since he clearly no longer trusted Dean to tell the truth. Castiel shrugged. “As far as I know, all we did wrong was fall more deeply in love than either of us bargained for,” Castiel said.

Sam pulled his you’re-all-terrible-people-but-I’m-kinda-stuck-with-you face, and he turned to leave.

Dean watched his brother’s retreating figure. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why dirty little secrets are bad things to keep.”

“It’ll be okay,” Castiel said, gripping Dean’s wrist. Their eyes met, and Castiel didn’t hesitate before he leaned in to kiss Dean on the mouth.

Dean pressed his body against Castiel’s, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. Their shoes interlocked and Castiel’s hands took Dean’s waist, warm fingers sliding under his tuxedo jacket.

Oh, yeah, Dean thought. He’d missed this. Cas was just so _perfect_ to kiss. His bristly face and his sweet breath and his subtle lip-nibbles? All perfect. That firm tug at the back of Dean’s head, the deep lick of Castiel’s tongue and the shove of his jaw? Also perfect.

Dean heard a whistle and a thump, then he felt a terrible, stinging ache on one arm. “OW!” He leapt back from Castiel, looking wide-eyed at his assailant.

“You’re despicable,” hissed Lisa’s mother, Greta. She wore a peach-coloured skirt suit with a lopsided hat, and she clutched her white handbag like she fully intended to hit Dean again. “You’re disgusting! You filthy, rotten pig!”

“Mrs. Braeden, please! Don’t hit Dean,” Castiel said, stepping between Greta and Dean.

“He cheated on my daughter! I’ll hit him all I like!”

“Mom— Mom!” Lisa’s heels clapped on the rink’s hard floor as she scurried up to her mother, her wedding dress lifted to her knees. “For God’s sake, Mom, you don’t need to defend my honour! I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s called polyamory and it’s—”

“Oh, don’t give me that, Lis. I told you he was a flake in the heart department. Now look. Cheating on you with the company _tax accountant_ who can’t even put on a tie right.”

“Cas is a friend!” Lisa had to side-step to get between her mother and Dean again. “He’s a friend. My friend _and_ Dean’s friend. We’ve worked together from the start.”

“And you didn’t see? You didn’t notice them sneaking off to canoodle in the back room?”

“No, I didn’t, because that wasn’t happening! I mean, I noticed they always stood strangely close to each other... and they’d look at each other like they ought to be left alone—” Lisa cut herself off, making an exasperated sound. “Look, it doesn’t matter, Mom. Really. I was getting cold feet anyway.”

Unmistakably, Greta was one second away from starting a fight, but she heard Lisa’s words – and in a moment, she stood down, like an armed tank retracting into itself the way a turtle did. Her glare became a soft stare, and she held her handbag like a handbag again, not a weapon. “I _told_ you you weren’t ready,” she sighed witheringly, and she walked away, shaking her head.

“Really?” Dean asked Lisa. “Cold feet?”

Lisa turned around, shrugging a shoulder. “In hindsight? Yeah. Now the wedding’s off, all I feel is... relief.” She pulled a face like she didn’t know what to make of it. “I love you, sure, but...” She considered Castiel carefully. “Most days, I think I figured you’d rather be with him, deep down. Clearly this wedding wasn’t meant to be.”

Dean slid his hand into Castiel’s, linking their fingers together.

Music began to play, filling up the skating rink with booming sound. The disco lights began to flash, and hired staff hurried to clear away the guests’ chairs, stacking them at the side of the rink. All the guests were standing up or sitting over by the shoe racks, putting on their roller-skates.

“Jeez, these guys recover from drama well,” Dean grinned, looking around at his friends and family. His smile slipped slightly as he realised nobody from his side of the room had come up to comment on his behaviour. “Nobody’s even remotely surprised, are they?” He hung his head and shut his eyes, eyebrows up. “Wow. We must’ve been so obvious.”

“If only you’d been _more_ obvious, maybe we would’ve called off the wedding sooner and saved ourselves the money,” Lisa muttered.

“Sorry, Lis,” Dean said. “Again. You should take Ben on the honeymoon. Every twelve-year-old ought to have something original to brag about.” He smiled when Lisa smiled.

“Dance with me, Dean,” Castiel said, tugging on Dean’s hand. “Come on.”

“Isn’t that in bad taste?” Dean asked, looking curiously at Lisa.

Lisa blew a raspberry, waving dismissively. “We paid a packet for this set-up. Least we can do is enjoy it.”

Dean took a step back with Castiel, but Dean’s eyes stayed on Lisa’s. “We still friends?”

Lisa gave Dean a smug look. “I don’t see you being able to put me out of a job anytime soon, do you? If we’re going to work together, being friends would make things bearable.”

“Heh,” Dean said. “Awesome.” He gave a small wave, and let Castiel lead him to the skate-storage booth, stopping and starting along the way, doing their best to avoid wedding guests who were already skating around the rink in a circle.

At the desk, Castiel requested his personalised roller-skates to be pulled out off the top rack. Dean also had his own personal ones, and they were handed over without him having to ask. He and Castiel sat next to each other as they pulled their skates on.

Dean caught Castiel smiling at him, and he smiled back. “What?”

“I can’t believe this happened,” Castiel said, tying his laces tight.

“I can,” Dean said. “You showed up, and I kinda felt like my goddamn guardian angel had arrived to save me from a horrifically realistic domestic nightmare.” He stared blankly a foot in front of him, reliving the moment when he saw Castiel storming up the aisle like he was about to smite someone.

“Then I suppose I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel said brightly. He stood up, wobbling, skating forward until he could turn around. He wobbled in place, holding out a hand to Dean. “Help me?”

Dean folded over his knees, laughing. “Eight years here and you’re still as bad as the newbies,” he sighed, standing up to taking Castiel’s hand. Dean skated easily, floating across the carpet and onto the smooth wood without any exceptional effort. He felt Castiel wobbling after him, struggling to keep his feet from soaring apart and forcing him to do the splits. He’d done that before, and no doubt he wasn’t keen to do it again. Dean smirked at the memory.

As a new song began – _Eye of the Tiger_ , one of Dean’s favourites – Dean led Castiel into the whirlpool of skating people, grinning as Castiel made “Whooap— Gahh— God-dammit, Dean, slow doWAAH,” noises behind him. Dean held tight to his hand, dragging him around the rink, following everyone else. Dean wouldn’t let him fall. Even if he did fall, Dean would drag him and pull him upright with all his strength. They’d done that before, too.

“It’s the – eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight! Risin’ up to the challenge of our riiiivaaaal,” Dean murmured, smiling as he spun around while still moving forward, causing Castiel to let out undignified yelps as Dean orbited him. “And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watchin’ us all with the eeeeeye! of the tiiiiger...”

“Dean!” Castiel shouted, grabbing Dean’s waist, scooting along in Dean’s wake. “This is really not an enjoyable form of dance.”

“Bet you’d rather be doing my taxes right now, huh?” Dean grinned, looking down and ruffling Castiel’s hair.

“No,” Castiel said. “I just want to dance with you without feeling terrified of the floor.”

Dean laughed, and he pulled out of the giant spinning circle, slowing down as he reached the centre of the rink. Disco lights flickered in pink and green and blue, while yellow laser beams swept the floor. Dean stopped and took Castiel’s hands, beaming. Castiel stood straight, giving a sigh and shutting his eyes, glad of the reprieve.

“Let’s dance, then,” Dean said. He took Castiel’s shoulder and Castiel held his waist, and they bent from side to side, not moving their feet. Castiel’s wheeled shoes shifted every few seconds, and he’d gasp every time, grabbing Dean’s clothes.

“You gotta stop freaking out,” Dean grinned. “Become one with the shoes, Cas.”

“I’d rather become one with you,” Castiel muttered.

“Huh?”

Castiel met Dean’s eyes, giving him the kind of doe-eyed look that Dean had come to think of as his speciality, right next to squinty-eyed bafflement and that I-will-destroy-you-with-my-glare kind of expression.

That softness in Castiel’s eyes became softer. “Dean...” He exhaled. “Will you marry me?”

Dean was about to laugh, but then he realised Cas was serious. Dean’s mouth dropped open and all that came out was a squeak.

Blinking, Dean looked down. “Uh. Wow.” He was at a complete loss for coherent thought, let alone words.

When he looked up, Castiel was waiting patiently for an answer.

“Ih- It’s kinda soon, Cas,” Dean managed to say, giving an awkward shrug along with a smile. “You break up a wedding and people actually need to recover from that, you can’t just leap in with another one. That only happens in movies. Same as people objecting to a marriage. People don’t do crap like that in real life, buddy. They took that ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ line out years ago.”

“Oh,” Castiel said.

“But it’s sweet you asked,” Dean smiled, leading them in a renewed stationary dance. “Like, real sweet.”

Castiel ducked his head, bashful.

“Hey.” Dean touched Castiel’s chin, making him look up. Castiel met his eyes, and Dean leaned in close, kissing his lips gently. “Ask me again in six months, when we’ve actually been together a while. Okay?”

Castiel nodded, kissing Dean back. “M’kay.”

They danced in place through the rest of the song, and all the way through _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ and Soft Cell’s _Tainted Love_ , but when they got to New Order’s _Bizarre Love Triangle_ , the lyrics hit too close to home, and Dean led Castiel off the dancefloor.

They watched the parade of friends and family whizzing past, laughing and dancing. Dean saw people pointing at him and Castiel, and he saw them talking. Some looked disapproving, some looked amused, or even happy. But, blind to the flashing lights and the mad colours in the otherwise dark room, Dean couldn’t take the blaze of the spotlight.

“Let’s go,” Dean said.

“Go?”

“Let’s take a walk.”

Dean sat to undo his roller-skates, and then he faced Castiel’s knees and took his skates off for him, while Castiel stood and clutched Dean’s shoulders.

A disturbing sense of immobility overtook Dean as soon as he stood up. He always loved wearing skates, and in comparison, having his feet on the ground was... slow. After a few seconds, he got used to it.

Just wearing socks, Castiel turned for the skate-storage booth to get his shoes back, but Dean took his hand, stopping him. “There’s a crowd there,” he said, shaking his head. He cocked his head towards the back doors where Castiel had burst in. “We’ll go shoeless. There’s no staples on the floor, I promise. We vacuumed last night.”

Castiel smiled, walking at Dean’s side. They left.

As soon as the dented doors were shut behind them, the music hollowed out to the bassline, pounding in the walls, vibrating underfoot.

They went downstairs, into the gloom. It was blissfully quiet. Dean could hear Castiel’s breath.

“I love you,” Dean said in the dark. Easy words.

Castiel squeezed his hand. “I’m aware.”

They leaned against a wall, and they kissed. They kissed deeply and for a long time, smiling, tasting each other’s lips, blissful serenity clouding Dean’s mind.

Dean brought Castiel in for a hug, burying his face against his warm shoulder. He breathed in Castiel’s scent. Castiel hadn’t showered before coming today; he smelled musty and sour, and Dean adored that smell. Cas smelled like that every weekend. They didn’t care about being perfect or good around each other, like Dean did with Lisa, and like Lisa did with Dean.

Between Dean and Castiel there was a level of comfort that Dean had never experienced with anyone else. It was different from sexual intimacy or familial love. Dean could weep in front of Cas, he could laugh until he couldn’t breathe with Cas; he was forever comforted by his presence, and, of course, the guy could piss him off enough to the point where Dean was sure he would commit heinous crimes, but throughout everything, what Dean felt for him was steady and secure, and most of all, passionate.

Lisa was safe. She was safe in that she was a woman and Dean was a man, and people didn’t bat an eye at that; she was safe in that she worked well with Dean, and she already had a son who was old enough that Dean’s parenting probably wouldn’t screw him up. She was safe in that she was clever and fair, and time spent with her was emotionally uneventful. Dean did love her. But he didn’t love her like he loved Cas.

In comparison to Lisa’s still waters, Castiel was a live wire. He was the kind of guy to break down doors, short-circuit ceiling lights and slam the brakes on a wedding at its pivotal moment, for Pete’s sake.

But Castiel was safe, too. He cradled Dean’s head and kissed his temple, and he breathed out against Dean’s cheek. After a day of madness – after years of flashing disco lights and turning wheels – Dean felt quiet. And yeah. He felt... safe.

Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulders tightly, losing himself in his embrace.

Castiel held onto Dean just as tightly. Just from the way he spread his hands against Dean’s back, under his jacket, and stretched so far that his forearms went all the way around Dean’s waist, Dean could tell: Castiel had no intention of letting go any time soon.

· · · ♥ · · ·

Six months later to the day, Castiel asked his question for the second time.

Dean said yes.

{ · · · ♥ · · · }

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this idea came from. Yesterday I woke up at 3am and my brain was like CAS INTERRUPTS A WEDDING AT A ROLLER DISCO. I got up at 4am and then I spend the day making it happen. I suppose I have my subconscious to thank for this. If you would also like to thank my subconscious, please leave kudos! Encourage unexpected creativity!
> 
> Also, if you would like to read more fics by me, you can subscribe here. I have a bunch of long stories coming up soon!~
> 
> [♥ tumblr reblog!](http://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/133315416995/waiting-for-that-final-moment-a-deancas-fic)


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